


Home

by moodwriter



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse to their private lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

What always strikes Tommy when he enters Adam's house are the floor-to-ceiling windows and the off-white curtains pooling down like waterfalls. Adam doesn't like furniture much so there are very few of them in his house, but nothing looks empty, unoccupied, impersonal. There is a huge white couch in the middle of the living room, a fluffy carpet covering the floor in front of it, and paintings, all kinds of paintings all over the walls. Some of them look like dreamworlds, places Tommy would like to get lost in. 

He loves Adam's house. The first time he saw it he lay down on the floor, breathing in the scent of the house, feeling it all around him. Four rooms and a kitchen. Perfect for Adam, perfect for them. 

Tommy sits on a bar stool next to the high table that separates the kitchen from the living room, watching Adam as he cooks. 

They've been together for seven months, and every month that very same day, Adam cooks for him. It still makes him smile. Especially since Adam can't really cook; everything he makes turns out weird. Tommy blames his impatient nature. 

There's a line between Adam's brows, and he's cursing under his breath. He has something in the oven and he's cutting something else, but Tommy isn't interested in the food. He just loves to look at Adam when he's concentrating on something other than the person looking at him. Adam is not aware of how gorgeous he is. Never has been. Something to do with being awkward most of his teenage life. Tommy thinks it's sweet and lovely, but also annoying as hell. Adam still doesn't care about pictures, and Tommy would take them all the time, just to make lasting memories, just to capture moments forever. 

"I should move in with you," he says to make a point. He knows how Adam feels about this, how careful he is after everything that's happened to him. Tommy still thinks it's a good idea. 

Adam cuts his finger. 

"Ouch," he exclaims, then licks the wound. It's not a bad cut, but Tommy still gets up and goes to him, takes Adam's hand between his own, and sucks the hurt finger into his mouth. Adam just stares at him, eyes wide.

When he pulls back, lets go of Adam's hand, Adam's eyes are black, his stance revealing just how much he wants to kiss Tommy. "I don't mind anyone knowing," Tommy says, looking at Adam with searching eyes. They've had this conversation from time to time, but it hasn't been this meaningful before because they've been on tour. Now, they're home. It's important. 

Adam brushes a hand through his hair, still not saying anything. It worries Tommy a little. Has he misunderstood something? Is it important to Adam after all? They've been having fun mostly. In the beginning it wasn't even a relationship, just them messing around, driving other people crazy with their antics. Now, and for a long time, it's been just the two of them. No one else. Nothing on the side, no matter what the papers or the fans have written or how much they've played along. It's just them, isn't it?

He steps back, scared all of a sudden. "You don't want it?" he says, trying to hide the fear. He tries to be casual, tries to be normal, but he's losing his ability to breathe. Adam sees it, and pulls him into a hug. 

"Stupid. It's not..." Adam laughs softly. "It's not you. I love you."

Tommy lets Adam hold him, but he doesn't participate. He doesn't like this, the whole feel of this not-yet-conversation. He hopes Adam would just shut up, would do something other than talk. If he says something Tommy can't take... 

"I want us to survive all this, okay? I want it to last. And the only way to make it happen, the only way I know is to take it slow." Adam's words are like lace, careful, warm, full of patterns. Tommy fears he might get lost into it all. 

"So you're saying we're keeping it real this way?" He still lives with his roommates. He doesn't sleep here most nights. They don't go anywhere together. Adam won't let anyone take pictures of them together, unless he knows he can control where they end up. 

Adam takes hold of Tommy's head, hands on his cheeks, fingers brushing against his ears. "I don't want anything to steal you away from me." Adam doesn't say the rest of it out loud, but Tommy hears it anyway: _I've lost enough._

He puts his palm on top of Adam's heart, feels the beat beneath his hand, breathes with it. "Is there anything you can give me?" He knows it sounds pathetic, but he needs something to confirm that it's real, that he's not wasting his time, that it won't end up being the biggest mistake of his life. 

"What do you want?"

"Something everyone can see."

Adam looks at him for a while, hands stroking his cheeks. "You can wear anything of mine," he says. "You know how quick they are to notice these things."

"Not good enough." He's not being rational at the moment, but since Adam is set in his ways he can be, too. "Something..." He doesn't know what. But something more. 

"What then? A tattoo?"

Tommy shakes his head, Adam's hands still holding him. 

"Even a bigger hint than the Munich kiss?" Adam is starting to sound a little exasperated. "What do you want me to do?"

"What would you do if it was just us?"

Adam smiles. "Matching piercings?" Tommy shakes his head. "Jewelry?" Again, not enough. "A ring?"

"A what?"

"You know, the thing you put on your finger. People use them when they get engaged or married. A ring?"

Tommy thinks about it. He can't think about it for long, though, because he kind of forgets how to stand on his own. He leans against Adam, hands circling his waist. "Whatever," he says. "I don't care." There's so much love in his words he sounds like a sappy idiot. He can't help it. 

Adam's smile is all over the place when he speaks. "You'd like that?"

"No." He keeps his eyes closed, hides. 

"What kind of ring wouldn't you like?" Adam asks, pulling him closer.

"I'd let you choose if I wanted something like that." He tries to hold back the smile, tries to bite his lips, but can't. It's too strong, that feeling. 

"Would you wear it?"

Yeah, he would. "Never."

"I think you love this," Adam says, tilting Tommy's head up. "I think I love you for this." Adam doesn't kiss him, just looks him in the eyes, blue and brown, green and amber. He fits here, close to this body, close to this mind. Of course he loves this. 

"Okay, you can give me a ring." He's so generous, he is. 

This time Adam does kiss him, and before he knows it, the touch is nothing but heat and strength, Adam's whole body forcing him to take it. 

He's never going to get used to the way Adam takes what he wants. And still, in the next moment, Adam can be so gentle it's impossible and painful and too much. 

But now, now he's just pure instinct, crushing, pushing Tommy against the kitchen table, lifting him on top of it, spreading his legs and pulling them around his waist. When he's like this Tommy bites back but he also lets go, because it feels too good to have Adam pulling his hair, pushing him down, placing him just the way he wants. 

With someone else he might fight, but with Adam, he begs. 

Adam has him on display on the table, shirt gone, hands above his head, holding on to the edge of the table. Adam is licking a trail up his stomach, his muscles tensing beneath the touch. He can barely breathe or move, but Adam knows that, careful even in frenzy. 

He can't take it much longer, can't let Adam be slow or it will make this torture. He grabs Adam's shirt and pulls. "Now." The word is a raw whisper because Adam holds him down with a hand around his throat. 

Tommy nearly whimpers when Adam lets go of him, pulls himself free of Tommy's grasp, and kisses the hand that just moments ago forced him down. "Wait."

He feels naked without Adam. A part of him wants to scream because the wait is frustrating and it hurts, but another part of him loves it. His whole body is in a wanton state of hunger, and all he wants is to be filled. He can't believe this is him now, that he is completely at Adam's mercy - and just where he wants to be.

Adam comes back, and without warning, grabs his waist and turns him over, pulling at his sweatpants, hands rough, fingers leaving marks. Tommy is fucking happy he's not wearing jeans. Adam pushes his legs further apart with his knee, hands grabbing Tommy's hair, pulling his head back into a kiss that steals his breath away. He wants more, faster, now, but Adam is still a fucking control freak. But at least he's working his pants open, button and zipper no match for Adam's skillful hand. 

He never gets used to it, can't. The fact that it's Adam who moans in his ear, who bites his skin, who stretches him open and just makes him breathe like no one else. He never knows if he should laugh or cry or smile at the fucking universe because it's the best there is. This. His sweaty hands sliding against the surface of the table, trying to push back, Adam's fingers in his hair, mouth everywhere, biting, licking, whispering stupid-sexy words against his spine. He can't take it without breaking a little every time. But Adam is there to put him back together. Always. 

Their fingers entwine, and Adam holds on to him like he's some kind of a lifeline. And maybe he is because he's never seen Adam this happy before. 

For a little while he doesn't breathe at all, for a little while he only feels, his body trembling from head to toe, Adam's hand securing him, keeping him from falling apart. 

When he finally breathes again he's a little more than a boneless mess. Adam breathes with him, kisses his shoulder, his hair, and then finally pulls back, still holding onto Tommy so he won't fall. "Let's go to the shower," Adam says, quiet, peaceful. He takes Tommy's arm and puts it around himself, walking towards the bathroom. 

Tommy lets Adam wash him. He just leans against the wall, humming quietly, eyes closed. 

"You look like you know the best secret in the whole wide world," Adam whispers in his ear. 

Tommy smiles. "Wanna know my secret?"

"I do." Adam kisses his temple, wraps his arms around him, leans so close there's nothing between them. 

"I've found my home."

The sound Adam lets out is heartbreakingly open and fragile, almost like a sweet memory of something long gone. Tommy hugs him, holds on to him. "Yeah," he says because he knows how Adam feels. 

 

The End


End file.
